Clarity
by lionheartedbookworm
Summary: You are the piece of me I wish I didn't need. Mad Beauty.


_If our love is tragedy why are you my remedy  
If our love's insanity why are you my clarity  
_

* * *

Sometimes Belle can still hear it. The voice of a girl that's her, but not her at all.

Lacey.

She's still there inside.

She was always there. Whispering, laughing.

Belle felt caged inside her own body. She was herself, she was Belle, she was real. But this monster inside of her was just as real as she was. And she would be a part of her forever.

There was a chance that Rumple would never return to her, never come back from the world of Neverland. Belle had kept up the hope that one day they would reunite, but the nagging voice of Lacey shot her hopes down in an instant. He wasn't coming back. Belle, or Lacey, one of them, knew that. Even still, Belle fought desperately to make each day count. Not even for Rumple's sake, but her own. She had to make her life count for something, with or without him.

She had to be a hero. For herself.

She was the hero of her own story.

It hurt to be without him, but she would fight through it.

But she doesn't know what to do without someone to lean on. She wanted to take care of someone, to be someone's pillar and have them be hers. She wanted someone to pull her into their arms and take the pain away. Belle was independent, strong, and was doing just fine on her own. But even she needed someone to love her. That was the Lacey side of her. The desperate girl deep within her who craved physical touch, who craved hands raking over her body. The girl who needed the touch of another to reassure her that everything was okay, the life was life and could be healed with a touch, a kiss.

Belle refused to give in. Even though she received looks from men in town, she refused to give in. She was not like that. Love was supposed to be more than that. The girl deep inside of her that fought with her real self, Lacey against Belle, would not win.

In the end, the beauty would be the winner, and the beast within would have to be caged.

* * *

Jefferson was mad too. The infamous 'Mad Hatter'. He knew something of pain, harsh pain that numbed you until you couldn't feel anything except the madness in your head. All he had ever wanted was a fresh start, to wipe away the slate and start new. He didn't want the voices, the sounds in his mind that made him think of another time. Of bloody wars and talking cats and that girl in blue. He didn't want to think of that world, of the horrors he experienced in what should have been an innocent, beautiful land.

He wanted to give Grace adventures, to make her happy, for her to love him.

But how could someone as sweet and innocent as Grace love a madman like him?

She belonged with her Storybrooke family. They had taken better care of her than he ever could. She could grow up with a mom who could tuck her in at night and a father who didn't hear voices in his head and go into hysterics. She could be happy.

All it would take is one step. One step over the line, and Jefferson would be no more.

It was too late for him to live life in this new town, to remember how his friends had blankly stared at him, not able to remember who they were while he was tortured with remembering everything. He couldn't shake those memories away. He couldn't be trapped in this place with these memories, with the madness.

_Just do it. Grace doesn't need you. You think you can make her happy? No one needs you. They'll all be better off without you. You're mad. You're sick, with no cure. _

_Just do it._

_ Just do it. _

* * *

And one day, he nearly does.

Until a voice calls out to him. A voice not in his head, for once.

"Don't move!"

When he turns, he sees her. That little librarian he'd seen once or twice. Belle, or something. She hurries down the road to him, her hands outstretched as if the very gesture would keep him rooted to his spot. And shockingly enough, it does.

_Drag her with you. Hold onto her and make her suffer like you suffer. _

Jefferson's hands rake through his hair, and his eyes grow wild and wide. "No...no..."

"Please, let me help you, okay?" Her voice is closer, and suddenly, her hands enclose around his wrists. "It's okay...just...don't step over the line. Bad things happen when you do."

"I want to forget." Jefferson growls, lifting his blue gaze. She recoils slightly from the madness in his eyes, but she doesn't let him go.

"No...no you don't." She says firmly. "Take it from me. Crossing that line...it will do you no good."

Oh yes, she would know, wouldn't she? She's already been pushed over. She's mad like you. She hears the voice of her cursed self deep within her. But she seems perfectly sane. She doesn't seem perturbed by the fact that her own memories and the other girl's memories quarrel with each other. She doesn't seem bothered that her supposed 'true love' died a bloody death in another world. She should want to cross again too. How can she handle those voices too?

"You're Jefferson, right? You're Grace's father?" She asks gently, giving his wrists a tug to pull him further away from the line.

"Yes." He answers quietly, taking sluggish steps with her as she pulls him further away from salvation.

"We'd better get you to her, then. I'm sure she's the only one able to talk some sense into you." The girl laughs, nervously, but to him, it sounds mocking.

"No one can." He growls, and suddenly, he's grabbing _her_ arms, and yanking her close. "I can't...I can't make them stop. Their whispers...I hear them all day and all night...I can't make them go away." He tightens his grasp on her arms. "I can't...hurt her anymore. I don't want to be mad anymore."

Her eyes narrow, and she grips his sleeves. "Crossing the line won't do anything to you, Jefferson." She furrows her brows. "You weren't cursed, right? You don't have a cursed self. You won't forget anything." She bites her lower lip. "You have what the whole town wants. To remember, and be able to cross."

Huh. He hadn't thought of that.

"I was cursed with the wonderful joy of remembering. What a blessing, to have no escape whatsoever!" He laughs, and the sound is a deep, barking sound. He's grinning at her, the glaze in his eyes enough to make her want to run away, to leave him to his devices. "I wanted to be nothing, no one! Just...just Bob!" He laughs madly, his eyes watering with tears from the force of his laughter. "I wanted it all to go away! Why couldn't it all just go away? Why can't I just be Bob!?"

"Stop it!" She orders, wrenching her arms out of his tightening grasp. "Just, stop it!"

At her shriek, his giggles slowly subsides. Something about her calms the demons within him. A look of clarity crosses his face, and his shoulders go slack. "I want it to stop."

Belle's eyes grow sad. "Me too." She murmurs. "But crossing the line, going out there...it won't change anything. You could be Bob over there, but Jefferson would creep into your mind when you least expect it."

"You too, huh?" And suddenly, he's plopping himself down in the middle of the wet road, his legs weak. Belle quirks her eyebrow, but crouches down beside him.

"Lacey fights me all the time." She murmurs. "She wants her life back, while I...I just want my own to be in order."

"Tragic."

"Insanity, really." Belle gives him a small smile, and shakes her chestnut curls. "True insanity. To have two people's memories, to have two minds clash. I don't know how everyone else does it. They all remember their cursed state, and yet...they're all just so happy." Belle shrugs. "Lacey won't let me be happy."

"Be thankful it's only one voice." Jefferson glances towards her.

Her legs are beginning to shake from crouching, from trying not to get her clothes dirty from the road. But she isn't about to leave him here. So she plops down beside him, adjusting her skirt as she does. "Regardless...Grace needs _you, _Jefferson. Not...Bob."

"She'd be better off without me. Let her old family take care of her."

"She wants _you._" Belle smiles. "She talks about you everytime she comes in the library. Whenever she picks out books, she always tells me she's going to have her Papa read them to her."

"She's the one who reads them to me." He says hoarsely. "When...when the madness hits me at night...I lock myself away. I can't let her see me like that. She doesn't deserve it." He pauses, unsure as to why he's telling the bookworm all this. Telling her makes it all clearer, somehow. "She reads to me through the door. My strong little girl." His eyes water again, but not from the madness like before. From the pain that numbs his heart. "How she doesn't hate me...I'll never know. She deserves more than me, deserves so much better."

"You're right, Jefferson. She does deserve better." Belle stares fiercely at him. "As do you, as do I, as does everyone else. We didn't deserve this curse, to be ripped away from our loved ones. To forget." She touches his shoulder. "To remember." Belle swallows hard, thankful when his tense shoulder relaxes beneath her touch. "Crossing the line may temporarily take away your pain, or it might not, but you'll leave behind a beautiful girl that will remember what her father did." She shrugs. "Even if nothing happens, she'll still know you tried. She'll still know you didn't want to stay with her, even though she wants you more than anything."

Jefferson lifts his blue gaze to Belle's, and his hand slides up to take hers. Belle finds herself threading her fingers through his. His touch is comforting, somehow. It means she's getting through to him.

"You're a helpful little bookworm, you know?"

"I do my best." She says with a small smile.

"So...what...what were you doing out here?"

Belle hesitates. "This ah, this is where it happened. Where Hook shot me and Lacey took over." Her shoulders shrug. "I...I worry sometimes about the townspeople and their want to escape, to see what else is out there, to have adventures. I sometimes check up on the town line, just to be sure no one's trying to make an escape." She gives his hand a gentle squeeze. "I've never had to stop anyone before."

"I...I'm glad you did." He admits hoarsely. "I wanted to take Grace on adventures. Regina promised me a fresh start. But of course, you know how the Evil Queen keeps her promises." Jefferson stares down at his hand still entwined with Belle's, and curiously brushes his thumb across the back of her hand. Her skin is soft.

Belle nods in agreement. "It's not too late for a fresh start. _You_ decide your own fate. _You_ decide whether or not you let the madness control your life."

Jefferson shakes his head. "I'm afraid, bookworm, that the madness will always be there, no matter how hard I try to push it down."

Belle hesitates a moment before scooting closer to him. "Maybe you just need a helping hand." She murmurs.

"Like who, you?"

Belle can't help but smile. "Why not?" She squeezes his hand, and notices how his lips quirk into a slight smile. "You..." She pauses, and looks down at their hands. "You make Lacey shut up. I finally...feel like just...Belle again." She brushes a curl behind her ear. "Maybe we can help each other."

Jefferson smiles. He's not about to admit it, but her presence makes the voices silence. Her clear voice makes the insanity go away.

This girl came out of nowhere, stopped him from making a mistake, and was willing to stand by him, to help him through the madness. She doesn't look at him like he's the insane man from Wonderland. The Mad Hatter. She looks at him like he's Jefferson, like she understands, like she can heal his pain with her calm words. That her tragedies can heal his own. Through it all, she was strong, and peaceful, despite her own inner demon.

This bookworm was a mystery to him, but one he was willing to uncover.

"We can be mad together, bookworm." He realizes he hasn't let go of her hand, and he decides he's not ready to. He's suddenly struck with the thought that he'll never be able to let her go. Not after this interaction.

"We'll make a tragic pair." She smiles.

The Mad Hatter and the Beauty.

Yes, a tragic pair indeed.


End file.
